


Effeuiller la Marguerite

by rubadubdub



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexual Jamie Fraser, Coming Out, Denial of Feelings, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Not Beta Read, internalised biphobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:55:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27103057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubadubdub/pseuds/rubadubdub
Summary: Jamie Fraser, the manager of Lallybroch Floristry, isn't sure about his new work neighbours at The Beefstakes Tattoos but this is just the beginning.
Relationships: Jamie Fraser/Lord John Grey
Comments: 12
Kudos: 47





	1. Blue Wisteria

Jamie weaved his way through the twisting back streets of Edinburgh, a misty rain caressed his face. He loved mornings like this. When he could forgo the bus to enjoy his early commute amongst the fresh air. There was a way the rain awoke his senses, cleared away any remaining sleeplessness, that could not be matched. 

He took a corner around the Castle Leoch, the oldest pub in the neighbourhood, and passed the same stores he was so familiar with. There was a French Bakery not run by Frenchmen, a second-hand book store he frequented, a coffee shop run by the lovely Ms Jeanne, and what was until recently a boutique clothing store. Jamie spared a moment for the owner, hoping they had just moved premises and hadn’t gone out of business. As a small-time businessman himself, he knew the struggles. 

The boutique’s formerly cream facade had been repainted into a deep navy blue. In bold silver lettering across the windows, it declared this to be _The Beefsteakes Tattoos_. That certainly wouldn’t have been Jamie’s first guess. The lights were off so he peered inside to see a small reception area with a leather couch and dozens of picture frames across the wall. 

In inspecting his new neighbour he hadn’t noticed two men approach the store. The taller one was a sturdy young man with dark hair and eyes. Jamie could make out a few tattoos peeking out from the edges of his jacket collar and cuffs. The other man was fairer in complexion, an inch or so shorter than his companion and perhaps around Jamie’s age. They looked from Jamie to the shop and back.

“Oh, I was just taking a look. Been wondering what this place was going to be. Didn’t expect a tattoo shop I guess?” Jamie hoped he hadn’t just offended the owners somehow by nosing into their shop when it was closed.

“Ah well, hopefully, we’ll fit right in soon enough.” It was the blonde man that spoke, and with a very proper English accent that caught Jamie off guard. In his clean-cut coat and sweater, he looked far from the idea of what a tattoo artist should look like. “Do you come by here often?”

“Oh aye, I run the florist just there.” Jamie gestured up the street to where a planter box filled with greenery had been set up outside his shop. Above it hung a wooden street sign with _Lallybroch Floristry_ painted on in forest green, outlined with a fine gold border. 

“Oh so we’re to be neighbours then?” John smiled.

“I suppose so,” Jamie did hope this place wouldn’t bring the wrong sorts into the area. “Well best I be off. I need to open up for the day. Good to meet you.” He quickly excused himself. 

“You too!” He heard from behind him. He would be late to open at this rate. 

Jamie quickly took to his regular opening routine. Turning on all the lights to illuminate the small shop front crowded with flowers, ferns and herbs. He swept out front then began carefully selecting the plants to put with the outdoor display. After a quick rearrangement of the window display, Lallybroch now looked ready for business. All that was missing was Ian who had neglected to show up on time. Jamie had been more than willing to take on his troublesome nephew. Not only did it give him something to do it also allowed Jamie to keep an eye on him and hopefully guide the young man. If he kept coming in late and hungover though he was more than willing to ship him back to the Highlands to his mother. 

Ian eventually burst in the door forty-five minutes late panting heavily. Jamie glared through a bouquet of blue wisteria.

“You’re late.”

“Oh, sorry Uncle Jamie. I umm missed my bus?” Ian took off his jacket and threw it on the back workbench, exchanging it for his apron. The bruises on his neck suggested that he had likely missed the bus from somebody else’s place. 

“You’ll be working late then. Friday and Saturday. We have three weddings this weekend and you’re on driving and set up.” Ian looked indignant but bit his tongue and went for the watering can instead. Good choice. He was learning. Jamie was just getting into processing new orders when Ian spoke again.

“So, did you see the new tattoo shop down the road?” Ian had a tilt of interest to his voice. 

“Aye. But don’t you dare think about it. Yer mother will beat you half to death for it and then come for me ye hear?”

“I’m an adult now. She can’t stop me.” Ian gestured crudely with a pair of secateurs. Jamie gave him a side glance that definitely said _‘oh you think so?’_.

“Agh, come on now she doesn’t need to know.” Ian may have a charm with the ladies but that wouldn’t budge his uncle.

“Well, it’ll be your funeral lad.” With that, Jamie returned to the orders he’d been reading. 

Jamie’s warning lasted about four weeks in Ian’s mind. Longer than expected. Ian had made up his mind and was booked in on Friday at the new shop two doors down. Jamie agreed to give him the afternoon off on the condition that he told his mother that Jamie had known nothing about it till after the fact. 

As Jamie was closing down that afternoon he sent Ian a quick text to see if he was still at the shop. 

_Yep still here. Maybe another hour he says. Want to watch?_

May as well he thought. Jamie locked up the store and headed over. Even though he’d walked past it all the time he had yet to see inside the store. A brass bell rang against the door as he entered. He recognised the leather couch from his first curious peak. Under the industrial lighting was a reclaimed wooden desk and behind that hung most of the artworks on a dark blue wall that matched the exterior. 

Now close up he could see the various works in detail. Knives, flowers and skulls seemed to be consistently popular in tattooing it seemed. Alongside them were snakes, hearts and many faces of beautiful women. Ian better not have been dumb enough to get some pin-up girl tattooed onto him. Jamie would beat the boy for his mother in that case. 

A young man poked his head out from the back before coming out to greet him. He recognised the young man from before.

“Hi there, you looking for Ian? He’s right back here.” Another Englishmen then. Except this one was distinctly a Londoner. 

The place wasn’t big by any means but there was enough space for three distinct workspaces. The back one was currently occupied by a familiar face working on Ian’s left bicep. Ian’s other arm was draped across his forehead possibly trying to obscure the uncomfortable scowl across his face. He did look a little pale. Jamie couldn’t help but smile to himself. Well, you’re putting yourself through this he thought. 

“Yer right lad?” he chuckled. Ian frowned unappreciatively.

“He’s done extraordinarily well. Five hours for your first tattoo is quite the trial. You’re a brave man,” The blonde man gently wiped over Ian’s arm and leaned back to take in his work, carefully examining how the line work created the texture of the fur. With the same analytic look in his eyes, he looked up to study Jamie who could feel the icey eyes pouring over him. It was clear that he recognised him from their encounter some weeks before. 

“I’m John by the way,” He turned to pick up some more ink from the silver tray behind him. “I believe we’ve met.” He gave a charming smile that implied he didn’t feel nearly as awkward about their last meeting as Jamie did, and returned to his work. 

“Yes. Sorry about before. Wasn’t polite peaking in like that.” He hoped he didn’t sound caught off guard. 

John intently focused on his work, finishing off a clean line before he spoke again. 

“I think I can find it in myself to forgive you,” his charming smile returned when he relaxed. A sharp contrast to the way he jutted out his jaw sternly as he went about his craft. He gestured to behind Jamie. “Please pull up a chair. We’ve still got some time to go.” This provoked a very unhappy cry from Ian. With Ian not up for conversation, John and Jamie filled the time themselves. 

“Have you worked at the flower shop long?” Jamie explained how he’d taken over the management of his Aunt Jocasta’s florist shop three years ago when her age and vision loss finally caught up with her. She of course still owned the place and came in often to criticise Jamie’s choice of floral arrangements but the daily management came down to him. It had been a very dear place to both her and his mother so he couldn’t possibly let it close down. Not when he could do something about it. 

“What about yourself? How long have you been tattooing?” John himself was an older man and could very well have been doing this for a long time. Yet even with the sleeves on his button-up shirt rolled up, Jamie couldn’t see any tattoos. 

“Oh, about seven years full time. I started later than most others. I was in the Army before.” A touch of mirth was in his voice. 

“That certainly seems like quite the change. What made you do it?” Stranger than thinking of this man as a tattoo artist was thinking of such a gentleman as a soldier on the battlefield.

“Well,” he began with a flourish of his tattoo machine, “I had intended on being a career soldier until I died really. Just like my father and my brother. Yet misfortune has it that I was caught in an explosion that launched quite a few pieces of shrapnel into my chest.” He spoke as if it were no more than an event of inconvenience. He sat back, tilting his head at odd angles as he examined his work.

“After all that rummaging around my chest by the doctors, I was medically discharged and left to wonder what the hell I was going to do now. I guess near-death incidents make you more open to taking chances in life. So I took a chance on something a little unconventional.” 

“Unconventional hey?” Jamie was still trying to put together who John was. Some son of a high society military family now tattooing in Edinburgh? How peculiar. 

“Yes well in my family at least. Let’s just say my mother is still hoping I’ll give all this nonsense up to find a respectable job.” John gently nudged Ian’s shoulder, helping roll his arm in a better position for him to get at.

“But what about you? Always dream about running a flower shop when you were a young boy?”

“Certainly not. To be honest I’m still trying to figure out what I want to be,” This was only a half-truth. “But I have a roof over my head and honest work. Can’t say I’m not content.” Jamie had been half-submerged in thought. When he emerged back out he saw John’s gaze softened with concern. Seemed Jamie had embarrassed himself again. 

Thankfully Ian picked his moment well this time. He awkwardly writhed in the chair, trying to give some relief to his aching body. 

“That’s it, have a good stretch. Homestretch now. Just a few more strokes and I’ll let you go.” 

John worked the last few minutes in diligent silence seeing that his customer had had enough. When he was finished Ian gave the greatest sigh of relief, quickly replaced by joy as he got to see his first tattoo. Jamie had to admit it was good. John had really captured the likeness of a stoic wolf in his work, down to the light in its eyes. John was efficient in wrapping up Ian’s arm, protecting the wounded skin until it was safe to show off. Ian was unsteady on his feet when he first got up but quickly remembered what legs were. John fetched a cup of water for Ian. 

“Good thing I’m here to walk you home then lad.” Jamie rested his hand on his non-abused shoulder to steady him. 

“Now remember these,” John handed over a paper bag of aftercare products to Jamie but spoke to Ian. “Now I know I’ve gone through it with you but there are instructions in there as well and if you have any questions please feel free to call.” He then turned his attention to Jamie. 

“Please make sure he gets something to eat and drinks some water. It will do him wonders.” 

“Aye, I can do that. Come on now.” Jamie urged his limp nephew out the door. 

“See you around then James?” Jamie looked back to John, caution written in his posture. He looked tired, his nice shirt rumpled and his hair tousled from being flicked out of the way too many times. He had said it like a question. 

_Do you want to see me around?_

He had to admit he was intrigued by this man. And it would be sensible to get to know other local business owners. 

“Yeah, I’ll see you around John.” John stood up a little straighter at that, maybe surprised at not being refused. He smiled in a way that Jamie could only describe as sweet. 

The small brass bell rang out again as they left. 


	2. White Peonies

It had been two weeks since James had walked into his store and he’d been a constant distraction in the back of John’s mind ever since. He had forgotten what it was like to have a crush and now he was remembering how bothersome it was.

John took to busing himself in his work hoping to squash the thought of the handsome the florist down the road into the deepest recesses of his mind. 

He had a few loyal clients that were willing to follow him to Edinburgh to get work done but for the most part in was local clients who took up his days. Now that his schedule was filling up he could leave walk-ins to the more junior artist Tom.

John had met Tom a few years back in London when he was apprenticing under another artist that John worked with. They had gotten along so well that Tom affectionately referred to John as his work dad. So when John had decided to open his shop Tom had been eager to follow. 

John came in early on Thursday to finish off a tattoo for a client that had tapped out early a few weeks ago. Not unusual but he would be glad to get it over and done with soon. He was driving out to visit his mother for her birthday this evening.

Thus giving him a very legitimate excuse to buy flowers. 

John bid farewell to his client and dutifully packed up his equipment. Every surface was thoroughly wiped down. Every piece of equipment was put in place. After ensuring the rest of his shop was in order he bid farewell to Tom, certain that he was capable of handling things while he was away. 

_ Beefsteaks _ and  _ Lallybroch  _ stood twenty paces apart. Enough time to second guess himself. What business did he have lusting after someone like a schoolboy? He should have learned from his last relationship not to go after men based on their looks. He shook that thought away. He was doing nothing but buying flowers for his mother. Buying flowers from a very attractive man. A man that was tall with broad shoulders that John bet he could hardly wrap his arms around. And the way his stubble made him look dangerously rugged...

Oh God, he was swooning over the man. This was ridiculous. He was in no position to be looking for any kind of relationship with this man. But looking was fine was it not?

With a deep breath, he banished the risque thoughts from his mind and stepped into  _ Lallybroch _ for the first time. In the planter box out front grew basil, mint, oregano and parsley. Perfectly lovely greenery but inside was where the vibrantly coloured flowers were kept, protected from the windy streets outside. The room was full of the delicate scent of a dozen different flowers, each as exquisite as the next. The stone cream walls were warmly lit. John walked around the sturdy wooden table in the centre of the floor, cramped with flower arrangements in boxes, buckets, bouquets and bunches in vases. 

He had been admiring a bunch of white peonies when a young woman popped her head up from where she’s been writing. 

“Hello there! Anything I can help you with?” She has a sweet smile but sounded skittish. 

“Yes, I was looking for some flowers for my mother’s birthday.” Not who he was looking for but too late to leave now. 

She took him the back wall and started explaining price ranges and package deals. She asked if he knew what kind of flowers his mother likes. Whether she would want something vibrant and colourful or perhaps something more delicate and soft. Did she like things rustic or more traditional? Would you want them in a bouquet, a box or a vase? 

John was starting to feel a little out of his depth of knowledge now. Thankfully the man himself emerged out of the back to save him. 

Sadly he was clean-shaven today. Now at work, he wore a dark canvas apron, appropriate florist wear, and a brown knit sweater with pieces of greenery caught in the yarn. Truly there was a warmth to his character that was undeniable.

“Why don’t you go back and help Ian, Lizzie and I’ll help John here.” James happily welcomed him to his store with great pride for  _ Lallybroch _ . And John retold his tale about needing flowers for his mother. 

“Well James, I’m afraid my ignorance of floristry makes me unable to be a good decision-maker.” 

“Dinna fash. We’ll find you something. Your mother’s birthday you said?” James gave him an odd look. “Thought you’re family we’re all in London?”

John explained how that was usually the case but his mother was currently staying in the Lake District and that he would be driving out that afternoon. His brother couldn’t make it so it seemed he was playing the role of dutiful son checking in on his mother tonight. 

“And my sister in law will be there with my niece. It’s been a while since I’ve seen them so I’m looking forward to spending time with them.” 

“Well, family’s important.” He gave John what he thought was a small nod of approval. “Good your making time for them.”

Eventually, they decided on a bouquet of roses, alstroemeria and carnations in delicate shades of pink and coral, accented with fine bits of greenery. James’ large hand skillfully arranged the last bits of finicky decorative ribbon on the box. John seized that moment to make his move. 

“What’s the pub down the road like?” James gave him a curious look.

“The Castle? It’s popular amongst the locals. Good whisky and good food.”

“What to get a drink with me sometime?” John held his breath, hoping James would be kind enough to decline him gently. Then John would know for sure and could move on with his life without the thought of the florist bothering his heart all the time.

The air between them was static.

“Sure.” 

“Ok.” 

They agreed to meet up on Wednesday. John would come by after James had locked up his shop and they would go for a drink. 

John carefully bundled up the flower in his arms, turned to leave so he could desperately release the bubble of joy that grew within him away from James’ eyes, but he called out to him before he could make his exit.

“Oh, and John, it’s Jamie, please.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here she is short and sweet. Shorter than I expected but you know what I'm not sticking to some silly self-imposed word count. Do enjoy! And I hope to get to the good stuff soon.

**Author's Note:**

> As soon as this idea popped into my head I was immediately taking notes and I'm so happy to share this now! May be subject to Rating and Tag changes in future I really don't know yet.


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